


I'm Still Standing

by FandomLastsForever



Series: Musical May [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLastsForever/pseuds/FandomLastsForever
Summary: And don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did?Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid.Following Flynt from Age Four to Seventeen, we learn how he got to where he is today.





	I'm Still Standing

**Author's Note:**

> Entry one for Musical May  
> Inspired by Taron Egerton's cover of "I'm Still Standing", originally by Elton John.

You're four years old when you see your first concert. Your parents are working late that night, so your grandfather takes you. The music is lively, and everyone is standing on their toes in an attempt to dance and see the band on stage. You have no trouble seeing over the crowd from upon your grandfather's shoulders. Your dark brown eyes stare happily at the magic that is coming from the musicians.

That is, until your eyes make contact with the trumpeter.

They give the crowd a playful smirk as they belt out a solo, their shining brass adding new layers of life to the music that you didn't think were possible. You move your hands in time with his in an attempt to feel some semblance of the power they hold. Your grandfather laughs, calling you a real pro.

The trumpeter takes off the hat on their head, and throws it into the sea of people before starting to dance. You catch it in your hands with a soft gasp, and your heart swells with joy as the musician winks at you.

You decide right then and there that you will learn to play the trumpet.

 

o0()0o

 

You're six years old when you begin to learn the trumpet. Your parents had to save up for lessons for two years. You're told on your birthday when you open the only box on the table, wrapped in bright blue wrapping paper. Inside was a silver colored trumpet, much bigger than you are able to use properly. It was all they could afford, but you don't care.

You hug them tightly, giant fedora falling to the floor as you cry tears of joy. Grandpa hands you a lesson book, with all the tricks and techniques you need to master in order to become great.

And as soon as you're in your room, you set to work trying to play. You take a deep breath, hold the brass to your lips, and blow.

You barely manage to make a quiet **_toot._**

But that didn't matter.

You had made a sound, and it made you happy.

 

o0()0o

 

You're seven years old.

You've been playing the trumpet for a year, and you hardly put it down.

Every Sunday your grandfather takes you to the park. You both sit on the bench near the playground, and you play the newest song you learned that week. You feel content with everything, and your grandpa seems very proud of how far you've come in such a short amount of time.

One day though, your routine is changed.

As you walk into the park, you see a little girl with bright ginger hair being surrounded by a group of boys slightly bigger than you. Without even thinking, you run right over to the kids. They're all laughing and poking the girl. One of them pulling on her hair.

"Leave her alone!" you shout.

But they don't notice you.

"Hey!" you shout louder, trying to grab one of the boy's' shoulders. But they ignore you again.

The girl is hissing and trying to kick them away as they tug on her blue dress.

You take a step back and take a deep breath.

You lift the brass to your lips.

And you huff.

And puff.

And-

A shrill high C erupts from the horn, startling the boys and making them run. The girl stumbles to the ground as you run over to her, lowering the trumpet to your left hand as you reach out with your right to help her up. Her soft green eyes sparkle brightly as she smiles, accepting your hand.

"Are you okay?" you ask worriedly.

"I'm alright," she giggles, her cat tail twirling pleasantly. "I'm still standing now, aren't I?"

You can't help but grin at the little girl. "Yeah, you are now."

"Thanks for helping me," she says. "Do you wanna play with me?"

You agree, and you let your grandpa hold onto the trumpet so that you had both hands free.

"Oh, my name is Neon," the girl introduced. "What's yours?"

"My name is Flynt."

And that was the day you two became friends.

 

o0()0o

 

You're ten years old when the store begins to suffer.

Prices for small businesses are far too high for your neighborhood to afford. You want to stay and help bring in customers, but your parents won't have it. They send you to school, and you get top of the class. You work hard in your studies, trying oh so desperately to make the honor roll every new term.

You ask for extra homework.

You help in the classrooms.

You take over the chores at home on top of it all.

You barely pick up the trumpet that school year.

And you feel miserable.

But you don't let it show. You've gotten really good at hiding how you feel. after all, your family needs you to work hard. The harder you work, the better a life you can make for yourself in Atlas. You want this. You tell yourself if you keep working hard, you'll be able to help your family life comfortably for the rest of your lives.

You have a goal in mind.

That goal makes your heart ache, because it's so far away.

You're miserable.

But you hide it so well, no one noticed.

Well, no one but _her_.

It was almost final exams when Neon came over that night. You two were going to study together, since you have trouble in science and she needs help with her language arts. It had been three years since that ginger haired girl came into your life, but you both complement each other so well in your personalities, you often forget she hasn't been there that long.

But despite that, you've become close.

So close, in fact, that she sees right through you.

 _"Flynt,"_ she grumbles. "I need music. Can you play me something on the trumpet?"

"Not now," you say. "We have homework-"

"That can wait while you pour your heart out," she groaned, poking your arm with the eraser of her pencil. "Come on, play me some of the blues. You need to play."

You hesitate, but those green eyes break through that shell of yours, and you go over to the case and bring out the instrument. You take a moment to make sure it's in good condition. You take care of it every day, but checking before you play was just habit.

_Still good._

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you lift the brass to your lips, and begin to play.

The sound fills the room, but you don't focus on it. Neon is humming along to the song, but you don't focus on her. Your lungs are constricting, and your lips are wavering slightly from being so out of practice, but you don't focus on either of those things.

You just stand tall, letting your emotions play the blues. You allow your heart to carry the tune.

For a moment, there is nothing. Nothing but you, the music, and the freedom of the world.

And when you finally stop playing and open your eyes, everything comes crashing back down to earth. You drop the trumpet, but Neon catches it quickly, setting it in the case before hurrying over to hug you. You hug her back, burying your face in her shoulder as you cry. It's not loud, or overly expressive. The tears you shed are much like the very first time you made a sound on that wonderful horn.

It's not loud.

But it's a sound.

And it makes you feel better.

"You okay?" Neon asks worriedly.

"I'll be fine," you manage to chuckle. "I'm still standing, aren't I?"

She smiles, and the two of you sit on your bed and talk for hours. You don't really remember what it was you were talking about exactly, but if it was Neon, it was probably anything and everything from existential questions to the typical how your days was conversations. You talk about your fears and your dreams. You don't remember all of it. But it was something.

And you feel all the better for it.

And after that night, you begin to practice your music once more.

 

o0()0o

 

You're thirteen years old when the shop shuts down, unable to compete with the Schnee Dust Company's prices and variety.

Your grandfather's health has greatly declined, and your parents are struggling to make ends meet. You study hard in order to get into a good school of your choice. You help out around the town, sweeping floors and washing the windows for small amounts. You don't mind helping out. You love your family. You'd do anything for them.

But then mother falls ill as well.

You can't just do odd jobs to help anymore. They just aren't enough. You need to help support your family while dad looks for work. But you know you can't drop out of school either.

That was when Neon suggests street performing.

"You've got so much talent!" she praises. "Try it!"

So one day, you decide to try it.

After school, you dress in your best clothes; pin-striped slacks, dark blue button up, and of course, your favorite hat. Neon takes you to a part of town with a high amount of people. You set up on the corner of a sidewalk near an intersection, and you open your case. Your dark brown eyes dart around. You've never played in front of so many people before.

It's terrifying.

"Here," Neon says. "I got these for you. They might help." She hands you a pair of sunglasses, smiling brightly as you slip the rectangular frames on. "How do they feel?"

"Perfect," you sigh gratefully. "Thanks Neon."

"No problem! Now you start playing, and I'll go get us something to drink, okay?"

"Sounds good."

You watch her hurry off to the nearby grocery story before turning your attention to the people on the street.

With a deep breath, you close your eyes, lift the brass to your lips, and begin to play.

It takes a while, but you hear the soft thuds of Lien hitting the velvet lining of the trumpet case. You take a moment after each pause to twirl your hat in thanks when one or two people stay to applaud.

Neon hands you a bottle of water, and you accept it happily. Glancing down at the case, you see several small amounts of Lien. It's not much, but it's a decent start.

"So how'd it go?" Neon asked.

"Great, I think," you say. "I'll come back again tomorrow for sure."

"Perfect!" She punches your shoulder playfully, a soft purr in her voice. "I'll keep an eye out for all the best spots. We can rotate to get the best traffic for your performances."

"So then you're my manager, then?"

"That okay?"

You put your trumpet in the case after collecting the Lien, smiling as you wrap your arm around Neon's shoulder. "Sounds perfect."

 

o0()0o

 

You're fourteen years old when it happened.

The money you made went a long way to help your mom and grandfather. They try to apologize for putting you in a position like this, but you tell them that it's fine. And to you, it is. You didn't mind, not really.

As long as they were okay, that was all that mattered to you.

Now your father has a job. It's hard work, but it pays well, and you don't have to worry about providing for everyone. You're allowed to keep anything you earn.

But you still save most of the money from the performances for them, just in case.

And you don't really feel you need the money yourself. You're happy with the way things are. You've gained quite the following as a street performer. Along the way, Neon joined in with a tambourine and glow sticks. You met two nice people who come by to listen all the time. After they offer to treat you to lunch one lucky Saturday afternoon, you learn they want to become Hunters at Atlas Academy.

Neon wants to go too, and you agree it'd be pretty fun if they all did it together.

You all start attending the smaller academy to get some training under your belt. You learn how to make a weapon of your own, and begin learning how to fight with it. Your teachers through it was strange, but your trumpet was a part of you. So if you were going to fight, you were bringing it with you.

Neon is your main battle buddy, but your other friends work hard with you. You can hold your own in hand to hand better than most beginners your age. And thanks to your father, you're far more proficient in using Dust. Your friends ask you for help, and you ask them for aid as well.

You train together.

You play together.

You become so close knit, you jokingly call yourselves "Team FNKI" because of it.

But despite all the training, you still don't know your special gift. The Semblance that was to set you apart from the rest.

_But you found it that day._

One day your friends all got together to watch you perform. You want to attempt a really hard piece that will require a quartet. But you want to at least try the melody.

After all, it's a song you wrote for your best friend's birthday.

You wrote this one for Neon.

You show up at the park with everyone, wearing a white button up, pin-striped slacks, a dark vest, and the neon blue tie that now accompanies the brand new ribbon on your favorite hat. Neon is zooming about on her newest roller blades, a bright rainbow sparkle trailing from behind her. She has a pair of specially made nunchaku in a holster on her hips, and her hair now has giant fluffy pigtails.

And you're glad to see her smiling as you hand her the sheet music.

"Oh my gosh!" she screams. "This is super crazy awesome! Can you play it so I can sing? Pretty please?"

"Of course, Birthday Katt," you chuckle. You bow politely, lift your trumpet from the holster Neon got you for your birthday, and you begin to play. All of your friends come close, and they begin to sing.

You lose yourself to the music, enjoying the sound as people pass by, some even leaving Lien on the bench you all are occupying. You spin, bend forward and back, lifting your foot and stomping it hard on the ground. You dance in time with the beat.

And you get to the part with the quartet.

You play the melody, but imagine how the other three parts would sound in conjunction with it.

Then you notice the singing has stopped.

You stop playing once the song is finished, looking at everyone in fear, wondering if they hated it.

But all you see are smiles aimed at you, and to your right.

You look, eyes wide in surprise as you see yourself. Three of yourself actually, dressed exactly like you, save the ribbon and tie.

"Flynt Coal!" Neon shouts. "You were saving this for me?!"

"Uh, yeah," you stammer in embarrassment, trying to make it seem like you planned it. "I wanted you to name the move. Happy birthday!"

She squeals in delight and everyone hugs you before you all head to the local cafe to buy cake with the Lien you just earned. Neon insists that everyone gets to help choose the name.

When you get home that night, you tell your family about The Killer Quartet.

 

o0()0o

 

You're sixteen years old when you enroll in Atlas Academy.

Your birthday falls just within the cut off, allowing you to be in the same year as your friends. You'll be able to celebrate your birthday the day after initiation.

And you quietly thank the Gods for allowing this to happen.

The day of the initiation arrives. Because Atlas is so far north, there aren't many Grimm. And thus, not many ways of testing how you would handle them. So the academy makes a compromise, and allows the initiation to be held on the island of Vytal.

And so there you stand on the ship as it makes its way over the ocean.

And your blood is boiling because of the conversations the other initiates are having.

_"Did you hear Weiss Schnee turned Atlas down?"_

_"I heard she wanted to go to Beacon."_

_"Probably thinks it's a vacation."_

_"Weiss Schnee-"_

_"Schnee-"_

_**"Flynt?"** _

You look up when you hear a worried voice say your voice. You see those same green eyes sparkling in the light coming in from the window, and you give her a reassuring smile.

"What's up?" you ask nonchalantly.

"You look mad," Neon said. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nah," he chuckled. "Just an old grudge. It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

She gives you a pat on the back, and you can feel some of the anger melt away.

Even if just a little.

 

o0()0o

 

You don't remember much of what happened after you were flung from that cliff. All you remember was seeing a bright rainbow streak soaring over your head. You draw your trumpet, adjust the valves, and with one quick blow you send yourself upwards. Once you were high enough, you reached for a very familiar hand, and a wave of relief washed over you as her fingers laced with yours.

You wouldn't be facing Atlas with a stranger.

 

o0()0o

 

It doesn't take long for you and Neon to find the others. They had arrived at the ruins just before you had, holding what appeared to be a small trophy in the shape of a treble clef. There's a matching one nearby that Neon zoomed over to take before anyone else could snatch it.

And that was when you heard the roar.

You spun around just in time to see a Beowolf charging over. You quickly summon your Killer Quartet, and without even thinking play the highest note you can at fortissimo. The Grimm flies backward.

You keep playing.

There's more coming from the tree line.

You keep going.

Soon the others see the danger and spring into action, with Neon using your sound waves to moves three times faster than her max speed.

You begin to lose track of time. You all take press forward, fighting off the incoming horde as you try to make your way back to the launch site.

The Grimm keep coming, almost unending.

You call out directions. You take hits. You alternate between solos and quartets, trying everything you can to protect your friends as you run. You bump into other teams along the way, and they melt into your rhythm without a second thought.

Soon everyone is fighting to the same beat.

The smoke begins to clear.

The Grimm have gone.

And you feel as if you're about to fall.

"Flynt!"

You look up, smiling as everyone hurries to your side, with your team helping keep you steady.

"Are you okay?" everyone seems to ask.

"I'm still standing, aren't I?" you chuckle. You look up at the launch site, and you see someone in a uniform standing there.

You don't know for sure who it was, but you're certain you saw them nodding in approval.

 

o0()0o

 

You're seventeen years old when you stand on that stage. The Headmaster of Atlas Academy, General Ironwood, stood in front of you and your newly formed team. You're standing proud, smiling as he announces all of your names.

Just like you all joked for years, you were given the name Team FNKI.

You were given the role of Leader.

And you hold back a laugh as Neon lets out a soft squeal and shakes Ironwood's hand as she rambles about how wonderful this was. The face he makes is priceless.

As you leave for your dorms, everyone suggests having a birthday party for you and inviting the other students.

You agree, feeling happier than you had ever felt before.

 

o0()0o

 

You're seventeen years and seven months old now.

You're on your way to Amity Coliseum for the Vytal Festival Tournament.

Everyone back home in Atlas is rooting for Team FNKI.

And you've never been prouder of your friends. You've all worked hard to get here. You've got a chance to make an everlasting name for yourselves.

But there's a small worry in the back of your mind.

And that worry was constantly brought to the front of your mind every time you picked up a new order of Dust.

It was confirmed now that Weiss Schnee was at Beacon. She was on the news not long ago. Something about helping take down an invading horde of Grimm.

You know she'll be there. And she'll probably end up going into the Tournament as well.

And it annoys you to no end hearing people say the name over and over again as the day of the festival draws closer. The same name that took your attention just before initiation.

_"Schnee...Schnee...Schnee..."_

You hope you get to face her. If for no other reason than to move forward from this. Weiss had nothing to do with losing the family shop, other than she was related to the man who ran his family's business into closing.

No, she had no involvement in that part of your life.

But her very name still angered you.

She was a talented musician, like you were. She was talented with Dust, like your father and yourself. She can clearly hold her own in a fight. Had she been part of any other family, perhaps the two of you would have become friends.

But she was a Schnee.

And you knew it'd be hard to move forward from that little detail right away.

That's why you want to face her in the Tournament. You want to see if she's anything like the man who runs the company.

If she is, you have a chance to get back at the SDC, even if it's only a little.

If she isn't, then maybe, just maybe, you'll get a chance to talk things out. Maybe you can become friends. After all, the Vytal Festival was meant as a way to make friends and allies. A moment to celebrate all the good in the world.

After Vytal, she'll either be an enemy or friend.

You hope for the latter.

 

o0()0o

 

You're seething with rage.

The team you were up against for the Teams round wouldn't stop talking about how weak your team was.

They kept saying all the right things to make you angry.

You recognize one of the other Hunters on the enemy's side. He used to pick on Neon a lot.

But today, he targeted you, trying to get under your skin and make you lose focus.

He brings up the Dust Shop.

And you don't let him continue.

Before everyone knows what's happening, you've taken out two of them by yourself. Years of pent up anger and frustration letting loose in a harsh C Sharp.

 

o0()0o

 

You end up in the Doubles Round.

You and Neon are chosen to represent Team FNKI.

You're going to fight Team RWBY's members.

One of them is Weiss.

You take no time at all in getting her attention. You and Neon came up with a plan to take them on. Neon would distract the blonde girl, ("Yang Xiao Long," you remind yourself), while you got Schnee. You'd both keep them apart. You saw how they fared against ABRN. Together, Weiss and Yang were powerful. In some cases, some might say unstoppable.

So the plan?

_Divide and conquer._

"Hey!" you call to her. "You Weiss Schnee, right? The Heiress."

"I am," she responds.

"I take it you're pretty good with Dust then?"

"I do my best."

"Yeah, my dad was good too. Owned a little Dust shop of his own." Your eyes glance at your trumpet, the mark you had painted reminding you of days gone by. "Til your father's company ran him out of business."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

You try not to let it show, but her tone, her face, it all catches you off guard.

You weren't expecting an apology.

Rolling your eyes, you push the feelings aside. Now wasn't the time to release your frustrations. You have to focus. Mind tricks for battle, keeping the enemy on their toes.

_Divide and conquer._

 

o0()0o

 

You're still standing.

**_"Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on Flynt Coal's Killer Quartet!"_ **

You glance at the scoreboard to see how much Aura you have left. There's plenty for now, but you have to be careful. You walk forward, pressing your foot on Weiss' weapon. She reaches for it, but looks up at you in awe. You wonder how often someone manages to get the better of her.

**_"Get back here!"_ **

Weiss' eyes turn to her teammate, as do yours. You smirk, and quickly turn. With a quick blast from your Quartet, and she'd be out of the running.

Neon rolls around her rapidly as you prepare to fire.

And just as the brass touches your lips, you feel something push you forward into the heat of the fire, the buzzing of the Depletion Meter and the call of the announcers filling your ears.

**_"It appears we have a double knockout on our hands!"_ **

**_"In fact, it looks as though Miss Schnee's Aura has been completely depleted! She sacrificed herself to take out Flynt!...Wait a minute. What's this!?"_ **

It takes everything you have to stand back up and walk out. You're wobbling, and you're seething with rage.

But you're still standing.

**_"Ladies and gentlemen, Flynt Coal remains standing!"_ **

You're angry. You were almost out of the match. You don't know if you're angry at Weiss for that gutsy move, or yourself for letting Yang's anger distract you. Perhaps maybe even both.

But it didn't matter right now. 

You're tired.

You're frustrated.

_But you're still standing._

You're walking toward Yang and Neon appears by your side. She assures you that Yang is easy, if kind of annoying. Taking her out should be easy.

But before you knew it, everything was over.

You stagger to stand after being thrown back by your own trumpet's sound waves. Neon is shaking from the adrenaline.

"We lost?!" Neon gasped. "We lost?! Team FNKI lost?! That was...that was.. ** _.AMAZING!_** Oh my gosh, you guys are super crazy awesome! We should totally party together sometime." She turns to look at you, smiling. "Right Flynt?"

You look over at Weiss, now covered head to toe in soot. She looks ready to shatter in a thousand pieces. You stare at her and feel...

Nothing.

There's no anger or frustration there now. Only a slight confusion and, you hate to admit it, a bit respect and feeling impressed. She gave herself up in an attempt to save her teammate.

Not many Hunters were willing to go that far for another.

Not many people in general would.

"That was a gutsy move, Schnee," you sigh. "I dig it."

The rest of Team RWBY run to the field to join their friends, and you and Neon make your way back to the locker rooms. You're staggering a bit, feeling a lot of pain. But you don't mind.

"You okay?" Neon asks worriedly. "You took a pretty nasty hit."

"Hey," he chuckled. "I'm still standing, aren't I?"

She smiles and punches you on the arm. "We both are."

You wrap your arm around her and place your favorite hat on her head. "So, how about tonight, we invite them over to our room for a party? Maybe go out to eat too?"

"You really want to do that?" Neon asks. "I thought you hated the Schnees."

"Why not? Time to move forward. That's what this festival's about, right?"

"Right! Okay, I'll get started on the invites and, OH how about we also invite Team JNPR? And PNCL and ABRN and-"

"You know what?" you laugh. "Invite anyone and everyone. We'll have a good old fashioned Team FNKI gathering."

**_"PERFECT!"_ **

You make it back to your dorm room and you call your family back home, praying they aren't upset that you lost. But they're happy to hear from you. They're happy you are okay. They tell you how proud they are of you. And you smile, feeling happy and loved.

Later that night, you'll spend time with everyone. And you mean everyone. Neon will invite the entire roster of teams participating in the tournament. You'll move the meet up to the cafeteria, and while Neon and Sage set up the stage, you'll find time to bond with everyone. You'll talk a bit with that nice Ren fellow, you'll trade stories with Fox and Nadir. You'll talk one on one with Weiss and learn why she chose Beacon over Atlas. You'll learn about anyone and everyone.

You'll fight with all of them side by side as Beacon falls. You'll return home to Atlas, hearing accusations and slander for things that the people of your kingdom didn't understand. You'll hear the people calling the school. They'll ask about the General and why Atlas attacked Vale. They'll ask about the teams that participated in the tournament.

They'll ask about you.

You pay no mind to the slander and accusations. You'll ignore the excessive amount of attention you're getting. Your team, your friends, you family, they'll stand by you as the press shows up in the mess hall one day to ask questions.

And you'll tell them the same thing you tell yourself every day.

"My name is Flynt Coal," you say.

"And I'm still standing."

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first attempt at a second person fic. I hope it turned out okay.  
> If we ever get info on the other members of Team FNKI, I'll flesh their part in this fic out more. I left it kind of vague because of that.  
> I hope you all like it!
> 
> Comments are love!


End file.
